


Affairs of State

by azziria



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, Community: 1_million_words, Drabble Sequence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Royal marriages are political affairs, not affairs of the heart, Danny has always known that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affairs of State

**Author's Note:**

> Series of 14 linked drabbles originally sparked by a Word-of-the-day prompt at [1 million words](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/).

So his fate was to be far-off Hawaii, and marriage to an unknown Prince. He'd hoped when he reached thirty still unmatched that they might let him marry for love, but it was not to be. Hawaii was a kingdom of strategic military importance, a valuable ally in unstable times; the King of Hawaii had a marriageable heir with a taste for men, and the King of Jersey a son to spare for a profitable marriage. 

Prince Steven stares back at him from the photo, grim and cold-eyed in his military uniform, and Danny steels himself to do his duty. 

* * *

Danny hates Hawaii. It’s the wrong kind of too hot, it has far too much sand for comfort (to say nothing of the sharks and the jellyfish), and its capital city is disappointingly provincial. 

However, to his surprise he _doesn't_ hate his Royal fiancé. Crown Prince Steven is courteous and considerate, and the stare that looked grim and cold-eyed in his photos looks clear-eyed and noble in the flesh - the nicely-tanned, impressively-muscled and surprisingly-tattooed flesh that, if he's honest, Danny is increasingly looking forward to getting his hands on. 

Maybe this arranged marriage won't be so bad after all. 

* * *

As a suitor, Prince Steven is proving infuriating, one minute showering Danny with gifts so perfectly-judged that Danny wonders how many surveillance devices the Prince has planted in his staterooms during the few over-chaperoned and frustratingly chaste meetings sanctioned by their royal advisors, and the next unexpectedly disappearing off on a ridiculously dangerous month-long quest to prove his devotion by slaying a mythical beast. 

Danny really doesn't need a dragon's head. 

What Danny _needs_ is for Prince Steven to survive long enough for Danny to discover whether he's as quixotic _in_ the marriage bed as he is out of it. 

* * *

"Where's the camera?" 

At least Prince Steven has the decency to blush. "In the statue at the foot of the bed." 

Danny swallows hard and attempts a brave smile at his new husband. "OK, let's do it." 

He's always known it would be like this, and it's a lot better than in the olden days when it had to be done up close and personal, but the knowledge that the first time the Prince enters him will be recorded for verification by both their fathers' chief advisors isn't exactly helping his wedding night nerves any. 

Sometimes royal protocol really sucks. 

* * *

Danny grits his teeth and forces himself relax as Prince Steven pushes into him, because this has to happen. Despite his careful prep the intrusion burns; Danny's no virgin, but ever since it became clear that he was suitable marriage material for Royalty of either sex he's been instructed to save _this_ for a prospective Royal husband. He suppresses a gasp as the Prince thrusts home with a definitive snap of the hips designed to look good on camera. 

It's done; and with it the treaty of alliance that benefits both their countries is signed, sealed and most emphatically delivered. 

* * *

Self-control be damned; Danny can tell that under his calm exterior his new spouse is incandescent with rage. 

"My apologies, Daniel. I swear that whoever leaked the video will pay, you have my word." 

And quite right too, because... Danny feels sick to the stomach at the thought... his sisters watch YouTube... oh fuck, the _entire world_ watches YouTube. 

The intimate details of his wedding night are out there for anyone to view. 

It's little consolation that he's sure almost every woman in the realm - and quite a few of the men - wishes they were him right now. 

* * *

The envelope is made of rich, creamy paper and sealed with the Royal seal. 

_"Daniel,"_ Steven's script is strong and regular, _"I am pleased to inform you that the unfortunate matter of the video can now be considered closed. However, my advisers recommend that we appear together at this evening's charity dinner to demonstrate that we are unconcerned by recent events. I therefore cordially request that you attend me in my personal reception rooms at 7 o'clock this evening. Prince Steven."_

Danny frowns. What sort of husband sends a formal invitation to dinner to his spouse instead of just asking? 

* * *

"We're expected to dance, Daniel." 

The dance is measured and formal. Prince Steven is stiff and correct, holding Danny as though he might break if he gets too close, and it feels uncomfortable and awkward. 

Danny closes his eyes, inhaling the scent of expensive cologne and flashing back to their wedding night, to the feel of Steven's hands spread hot against his skin, Steven's cock inside him, Steven taking him deep and hard to prove the treaty sealed. He remembers biting his cries into the silken pillows as he came at his husband's behest, and he wonders what's gone wrong. 

* * *

Danny's no fool, he's always known what a Royal marriage might mean - affairs of State come before personal feelings when you're a Prince of the realm. He's always known that he's a commodity, to be married off for Jersey's benefit. He just hadn't expected to like his spouse so much. Or to find him so hot. And he'd thought the feeling was mutual. 

But maybe Prince Steven was just doing his duty on their wedding night. 

Maybe Danny needs to resign himself to a life of celibacy with nothing but sex toys and his good right hand for gratification. 

* * *

Lady Catherine sweeps a curtsey and lowers her eyes demurely. 

"I assure you, Sire, the Prince has not taken his pleasure with me or any other courtier since the day of your marriage. He has remained chaste and faithful to you as he promised." 

So why the fuck has Steven not visited Danny's chambers _once_ since their wedding night? 

"If I may be so bold, Sire..." Catherine raises her eyes to his. "The Prince knows that this marriage was not your choice... and then the video... he doesn't wish to inconvenience you any further." 

Damn Steven and his misplaced chivalry. 

* * *

One of the perks of being Prince Consort is that when you bark, courtiers jump. 

"Out!" Danny snaps, "Everyone out!" and an unseemly scramble of gentlemen of the bedchamber leaves him and Prince Steven alone. 

"Daniel," Steven says, straightening formally, and despite his state of deshabille he somehow still manages to look utterly regal. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Steven," Danny says, "we need to talk." 

Steven looks... cornered. "If you wish to request an audience then my Private Secretary..." 

Danny shakes his head and wonders if laying a Crown Prince out with a right hook constitutes treason. 

* * *

Actions speak louder than words, and while the prospect of knocking some sense into his verbally-challenged and infuriatingly self-sacrificing spouse with his fists is undeniably tempting, Danny can think of better ways to use his body to communicate. Ways that involve stopping Steven's protestations with his mouth while his fingers finish the job of Royal disrobing that the attendants had started. Ways that involve kissing his way down his husband's body towards his very interested cock. 

The groan of pleasure and acceptance that Steven utters as Danny drops to his knees and swallows him down is music to Danny's ears. 

* * *

Danny wonders how many times he'll have to do this before Steven - _Steve_ , now - really believes him. How many times they'll have to play out this scenario before Steve finally completely acknowledges that first and foremost Danny is married to the man and not the crown. That Danny wants this, wants _him_ , whatever the arranged nature of their marriage. 

Not that it's exactly a hardship, he has to admit, as he sinks down onto Steve's cock, taking him deep and riding him slow and steady. Because watching his husband come apart under his hands will never get old. 

* * *

It's been an endless day of pomp and ceremony, and Steve has knots the size of pineapples in his shoulder muscles. He groans as Danny's strong, sure fingers find them and start working them out. 

"That's it, Danny, just there. Just like that. And harder!" 

Danny pauses his ministrations. "Bossy, much?" 

Steve smiles wearily. "I'm King now, Danny - doesn't that mean you're supposed to obey me?" 

Danny swings round to straddle the lap of the newly-anointed King of Hawaii and grins down at him. "You keep telling yourself that, babe," he says fondly, and leans in for a kiss.


End file.
